By MARIO PRODAN

The aut/lOr new" no ';r.trodt4aWn to the render. of hi. chaNning ulfay"Colkcror Beware'" (Juno 1942). He i. a well·KtIOWfI art dealer and con-noilf'C1U' of thing. Chinue and livu i.. Pe/.,i'l(J. 11 .. artick" a 'lew altempl10 lift the ·veil from Iht: etligmatic Chinut: people. It diJJer~ from other alteml/Uin that, whert: ",any OIdJoorll tl"oulcl have tuled a whole bool.·. ,\fr. Prodan prelfw.hi" collcllUtionlf in Ihe form of bri4 conver.taJion" wilh all imaginary-or perhap.not quile i,nagi'lury ?-Mr. Suapllim Wll.-K.M.

M R. SERAPHIM WU is a miniaturebig man. That is to say that hehas the proportions of a well-built,tall mall condensed to five feet. Hewears gold-rimmed glasses, behind whichhis eyes dance comically, tragically, lan-guidly, precociously, or demurely, ac-cording to the dictates of his quick will.His voice is a very pleasant baritone witha fantastic range. From a gurglingchuckle that is born in his eyes he canunleash a symphony of laughter with theovertones of a hurricane and the under-tones of a tolling cathedral bell. Hispersonality is gigantic, a locomotive cladin velvet. ~1r. Seraphim Wu is easilythe most important man I have everknown.

I got to know him as a curio dealerwho, though still relatively young, hadalready handled some of the finest objectsever to leave China. His great knowledgeof his COlUltry'S art, his impeccable tastein all matters, his fluency of expression(in Chinese, French, and English) at-tracted me to him immediately. I soughthis company, drew him into conversation,fed him preposterous ideas, and foundmyself fascinated by his reactions. Henoticed this and one day, quite frankly,asked me what I was up to. I told himthat I was trying to get to know hisindividuality and, through his artioulateself, the people amongst whom I hadchosen to live and who were becoming

more bewildering as I got to know them~He replied: "Individuality is a more or

less deep, more or lesslimpid pool into whichsome things are mir-rored. Therefore,Mr. Pu, it would be-good if you consideredyour estimate of my-individuality as·a refleotion of mypool in your pool, and_no more."

I have often diluted my avidity for'conclusions with this thought. At the·end of this ramble I may have succeededin putting before you my Mr. Seraphim·Wu. Your judgment of him will, per-force, matter little to Mr. Wu; but itmay be that, if you decide to adopt his.:'pool theory," you are granted an un-usual glimpse of your own self.

ONE day :Mr. Wu came to my home'for lunch. He is very fond of Eu-ropean food and has discriminating-

culinary tastes. His recognition of goodvintage is immediate. Having been edu-cated in a Jesuit school (where he ac-quired his odd name) and having traveledextensively in Europe and America, whenspeaking to Mr. Wu one is often forcedto abandon the feeling of speaking to a-Chinese. At table, for instance, his light-conversation and demeanor is in the-

'Very best European manner. He will:seldom devote hia entire attention to hianeighbor and will always enoourage gen--era! partioipation in one subject. Hismanner is gracious, but not obviously so,hia restraint edgeless; in a word, a most.agreeable guest. His presence as the-only Chinese visitor did not embarrasshim in the least. Indeed, embarrass-ment is an impossible state of mind for'Seraphim Wu.

He attracts the ladies immediately.and, a most natural compensation, istregarded with suspicion by the men.'There was one man at our lunch partywho could not have been a greaternegative to Mr. Wu's positive. He wastall, convinced, ruddy, and seldom has aname fitted a man 80 snugly and BJDugly:Birthright. He was going to indulge in:a bit of showing off at the expense ofour unusual guest. Tennis and swim-ming had been over now for months, andhe was beginning to miss hia gallery. Ithink he was the only one at the lunchparty not to realize hia unfortunate-choice.

Birthright took the opportunity ofMr. Wu's taking a second helping toremark, in the clUDlBiest of all attempisat polite facetiousness, on the interestMr. Wu showed in hia food. Himself an-enthusiastio consumer of roast beef, hesaid, he was not blaming Mr. Wu, con--sidering that Chinese food was what itwas. Mr. Wu looked at him calmly andreplied: "Chinese food caters only to a'8ubtle palate, Mr. Birthright, roast beefto a gaping stomach. European food.when it is as deliciously cooked as this,is as pleasing to the taste as a delightfullysimple chant is to the ear. But Mozartis very pleasing to the ear too, if youhave the response in you to understandit. Do you like Mozart, Mr. Birthrightt"

It was terriblyobvious thatno one likedMozart lessthan Birth-right, whichhe had toadmit.

AFTER the other guests had departed.Mr. Wu and I retired to my study,with cigars. Sinking into the easy

chair opposite mine, Mr. Wu gave me theimpression of a large cat. Small andwiry though he is, he possesses the powerto relax that gives him the round, silkylook of a feline creature at rest. Helooked lazily around and seemed at peacewith hia surroundings. A fire was inthe grate, and the whistling northwestwind, unconvincing herald of spring,seemed far removed.

"I envy you your BJDooth, noiseless. gra-cious family, the pleasant circle of friendsthat you entertain in your home, andthe orderly arrangement of your life,"he finally said, moving his head gentlyup and down as one does to expressapproval.

I knew Seraphim Wu well enough bythen to realize that this was his painless,way of introducing a subject that wouldeventually show up my and my people'sway of life.

"One's way of life is a matter of ohoice,Mr. Wu, and I am perfectly satisfiedwith mine. I am not surprised thatyou yourself have not adopted it, thoughmonogamy is, I think, essential to har-monious home life." I said thia simply.It was never necessary to infleot oremphasize an innuendo with Mr. Wu:he knew I was referring to hia threewives and half-a-dozen conoubines thatwere making a constant bedlam of hiaprivate life. His affairs were the favoritesubject at curio dealers' banquete.

Mr. Wu's life BOOms to have been aconstant skipping from stone to stoneover the rapid stream that was his pas-

CONVERSATIONS WITH SERAPHIM WU 343

sions for wives and jewel-jade. Theywere his constant pitfalls. It must be-explained that the latter paeaion amount-oed with Seraphim Wu to a form of aesthet-ic gambling. A jade block 88 large 88.a chair may in its innermoet heart harbora eection no biger than a pea of a color.and translucence to fetch three or thirtytimes the value of the whole block. Onthe strength of this dubious possibilityMr. Wu made two and loet three for-"tunes. He W88 not very luoky.

"Oh, I would have, I would have chosenyour exact formula had I not been forced:into a greater issue sooner. It is 88simple 88 that: I waa not gifted with-the eentiments of eervice and devotionto one penon for ever and ever, andwhen I di800vered this I allowed myselfehamefully to slip into the ways of my/P8Ople."

''My dear Mr. Wu," I said, "what youreally mean is that you have chosen theway of your people because you cannot-bear the thought of slavery to one womanand that, in spite of the inconveniences.of such an arrangement, you are quiteeatisfied with your choice. We will haveto do away with polite circumlocutionsin our conversations; otherwise they will.become a great strain on my simpleEuropean directness. Promise to be-direct with me, Mr. Wu, will yout"

HI will try to," he said, with his me-iodious chuckle. "Well then," he con-tinued, more feline than ever, "when Iftturned from my European educationI 888ure you I was like you. It is dif-iioult to escape the white man's enthu-

TBB DUb OENT17BY

"I disagree with you entirely, Mr. Wu.I believe that men and women were bomapart but in pairB, and when they findeach other, as they most often do, theylive happily together for ever after."

This must have lOunded silly and notat all to the point to Mr. Wu. But thenit wasn't meant for Mr. Wu; and womendon't care too much for husbanda whoare always to the point.

W E had arranged to meet at ~enorth entrance of the ForbiddenCity and together to visit that

part of the mll8eUJD that housed the fewfine paintings that had not been removedby one or the other of the war lords.

After we had paued through the greatvermilion gates and croeeed the wideand austerely 1lagged court that betraythe great dramatic 8eD8e of approach ofthe old Chinese archi~. the first paint-ings we eaw were eight enormous ecrollethat covered the whole length of one ofthe pavilioD8. They were portraits ofeight imperial poniee that had beenpainted by Brother Giuseppe Castiglione.B.J., commissioned by the Emperor ChienLung. I lingered. in front of these life-like reproductioD8 and was pleased withthe subtle pe1'8pective with which theartist had endowed his work and thegentleness that he had 10 well eucceededin giving the animale. I was aware thatMr. Wu W88 impatient to proceed to thefurther halls containing the Bung andYuan worke. I W88 enjoying myself anddid not wish to be urged away. Beforeproceeding alone. Mr. Wu told me thathe would wait for me in the next pavilion.I was piqued at this, for I had desired.to share the enth1l8ium I had for mycountryman's art with Mr. Wu.

I lingeredlonger than I hadintended to, andwhen I joinedhim among hisBunge and YuaneI gave them amore perfunc-tory scrutinythan I would

have otherwise. The truth was that I didnot undel'8tand Chinese painting. and thisvisit with Mr. Wu was in the nature ofa Cook's tour through that, to me, fan-tastic realm. Mr. Wu was not to beaware that he W88 to act 88 my cicerone,although I have a notion that he knewthis.

Mr. Wu seemed not to notice mybehavior. He was gazing at the workswith that 88pect of detachment from hissurroundings that a man h88 whenspeaking on the telephone. When hehad finished he emiled at me and ac-companied me into the open.

The northwest wind had ceased; it ,,'asmid-April, and Peking's sky W88 thebluer for its frame of white marblecourts. 8ang-dt.-boeuJ walle and the shin-ing imperial yellow roofs of the For-bidden City. We &at in the bright eun-shine, on the steps of one of the halla.In front of us was the vast expanse of •marble-flagged Field of M&l'8.

coyou did not enjoy Castiglione's ponies,Mr. Wu." I knew that it W88 I whohad to broach the subject. He wouldnever have done so.

"Not today," he said. "I was in themood for something more elusive andtherefore enjoyed the Songs and Yuansimmeneely."

"I am glad that even you find themelusive. It means then that my uttercoldness towards them baa some justi-fication. "

"Indeed. There is a justification al80for Mr. Birthright's predilection for roastbeef, for Mr. Birthright baa not evenmanaged to refine the taste of his seD8C8.When you have refined the tastes of yourmind, you will. it is quite probable,appreciate Chinese painting." Mr. Wuhad by then acquired the habit (from me,no doubt) of being 88 direct 88 I pleased.I thought he was a bit brutal this time,though.

"Probablyl" I said. There was nomore I could say: he W88 repaying me inmy own coin.

CONVERSATIONS WITH SERAPBDI WU

"Mind you, not that refinement is theGolden Fleece. Unless, of course, one isin qUe8t of understanding the Chinesepainter," said Mr. Wu.

"Surely it is the other way round:refinement and depth in a subject are theresult of understandingI" I was goingoff at a tangent, seeing that'llr. Wu hadput me in my place.

"You arc quite right, Mr. Pu. Youmust first understand something beforeyou like it-or dislike it, for that matter.Do you understand Chinese painting,,,Mr. Wu really had a kindly twinkle.How did he manage itt

"No, I suppose I don't," I said. Whydid I have to say it flauntingly? Therewas nothing to flaunt about.

Mr. Wu had stretched his legs and wasadmiring his neat silk-covered ankle8, hisblack satin-shod feet that were like thoseof a small, nervous woman.

"I will tell you about~ ~ it then," he said. "The~ tJJ.~ Chinese painter, you~ must realize, is more

of a poet than a repro-ducer. His intentions are entirely differentfrom those of a European. In his infinitecapacity for introspection, beauty thatNature alone can procure Beeps throughhis consciousness. The essence of thisprocess he then places on record. Hemay have seen one landscape or many ofthem a day or a month before. The rec-ollection of his own feelings for themare set down with the mechanical meansof brush and color, which he has thor-oughly mastered. Thus his own innereelf, through which that beauty hasseeped, is established on the silk as wellas his own conception of the world, ofNature, of the Infinite. The majesty ofa wind-swept peak, the insignificance ofa human being, the loneliness of a solitarypine, arc put down as his partioular selfJuh them, not as he 8ee8 them. Veryoften he intends to portray his eenae ofthe Infinite. He may employ variousruses, as using form only to accentuatespace, just as the strident er-hv, ourChinese violin, is meant to aooentuate the

drama of the ensuing silence. The artist'sappeal is made to our poetio sense, tothat which is in us, not to reproducingfaithfully what is outside of us.

"And another thing, your powerfulnudes are an assertion of man overNature, when they are not a direct appealto your lenses or a portrait commissionedby a rich patron. The little, lost fisher-man of our landscapes is a man in har-mony with Nature. For that is our ideal~d our endeavor.

"Our art is inextricably involved withNature, bowing to the consciousness ofits perfection. Our early porcelains wereconsidered great works of art. The great-est compliment paid to a certain potterof the Sung period was that his objects,when placed in the forest, would passunnoticed by man or animal 88 part ofthe natural surroundings.

"Sometimes I think that it must bedue to this very same innate subjectionto Nature that we have lagged so farbehind in technical development. Wehave not dared to believe that we couldsubjugate Nature. I think this has beena good thing for our people. WhenEgypt was harvesting splendor and laterdegeneration from an accommodating Nile,China was (and still is) struggling withtwo devastating, unchained rivers. Whohas survived the better1

"Our attitude to Nature is propitiatory,yours defiant. When we discovered thecompass, silk, and paper, we acceptedthe whole with gratitude, as a gift.Another of our discoveries, gunpowder,was used until recently in firecrackers toamuse children. When you discoversomething, you feel you have wrested itfrom Nature who, 88 a monstrous joke,makes you use your inventions againstyourselves.

"CYou see, Mr. Pu, all these things youhave to understand, nay, feel before youcan begin to appreciate our painting.It is not at all simple," said Mr. Wu.

It wasn't at all simple and, actually, itwas rather disconcerting at the time.

But the next day I took a trip into thehills on my motorcycle. The exhilarating

THE XXtb CENTURY

speed of the wind and the singing of themotor swept away all the doubts of theprevious day. Here was I, astride a

contraption that allowed me to travelfaster than any Chinese would probablyever have traveled had it not been for ascattered number of European inventors.With the gathering of speed, my pridein my race augmented, and with theaugmentation of my pride in my race,my speed increased. I have never beenable to find out what made the front tireburst. I was kept in hospital for twoweeks, and it cost me four front teeth.Today I appreciate Chinese painting agood deal more than I did three years ago.

I enjoyed going for walks with Mr. Wu.Though a dynamically energetic per-son, he had an unlimited faculty for

real leisure. Walking with him gaveone that feeling of relaxed contentmentthat our age of bustle is rapidly makinga rarity. He possessed an intimateknowledge of Peking and its differentmoods. The decadent drama of theLama Temple, the austerity of the Hallof Ancestors, the joyfulness of the NanHas (South Lake) with its polychrome-roofed pavilions took on a keener aspectthrough his company.

His conversation, when he did convene-for during long periods he could bepeaoefully silent-was varied, simple, andinformative. The account of his talksset down here is actually quite unfair tohis real personality. It sounds as thoughhe were constantly falling over himselfin an endeavor to make swooping state-mente and more or l~ profound andannoying observations. This is not atall the case. Such obeervations were inall caees the result of serious provocationon my part. Knowing my taate for

pronouncements "with a punch," hecheerfully obliged. No doubt he con-sidered my passion for directne18 andfinality as a proof of my mental clumai-ness and lack of refinement, but I wasnot going to miss exploiting my greatdiscovery of a Chinese whom I had per-suaded to say what he really thought.

We were walking together, one latesummer day, in the old Winter Palaceof the Emperor. We bribed the care-taker and were allowed on the upperstory of the gallery that runs along thelength of the North Lake. It was fromhere that the Emperor and his retinueused to admire the intricate figures ofice-skating virtuosi who performed onthe frozen lake.

On that particular summer day, whatone saw of Peking from up there wastrees and almost only trees, with hereand there a glittering tower or gatepushing its proud bulk through the green.I remarked on the strangeness of this citythat seemed utterly treeless when walkingin it and populated only with trees whenviewed from a height. Mr. Wu explainedto me that this was due to the fact thatthe trees were all inside the privategardens, which were surrounded by highwalls so that the trees could not be seenfrom the street.

"Our strong sense of ownership extendsitself even to one of Nature's most gra-cious gifts. We want to make the treessurround us and live intimately with U8and do not intend to share them withthe multitude. The trees in your parksand public gardens belong to all, andtheref01'8 to none.

"I know, your parks are open to richand poor alike, and it all fits in perfectlywith your sense of duty to the less for-tunate, a sense of duty that today hasbecome law. But with U8 it baa alwaysbeen otherwise. In my scheme, pity isa weakness in the man who feels it andan inducement to weakness in the manwho accepts it.

"'Regard the tree as a teet of Natureto man. If you are of the strong, you

CONVERSATIONS WITH SERAPHDI WU 1'7

·~t.r~

will acquire the tree and surround itwith a wall 80 that you may share itapleasures with whoever you younelfchoose. If you are improvident andstupid you will out down the tree beforehaving planted aDother and very soonyou will be without one. If you areextravagant you will want many treesaDd, being able to take cue of only afew, they will all die for want of propercue. In the same way, your tree willdie if you are unkind towards it, and itwill grow strong if you treat it eoberly,intelligently, and with inten8t. Fur NfJ-tun, .,10 Au uIabliMetl ourbuic~,Au GUo gi..,. "" OW' coda 01 ccmd'lld.8treDgth is needed to accept it, and wedo not all have it." Mr. Wu was obvious-ly working up to a climax.

"You make me feel as though we wereall living in primeval foreete," 1 said.

"I know, 1 know, Mr. Po. What youmean is that we are not animals but areendowed with strong reasoning power,aDd you are right. But 88 long 88 wereact first to hunger, fear, and eex, andonly much later to intellect, we are notfree from Nature. Your own Europ&-

~van~, in~llectual, ~-~te

to greed on one side and fear on the otherwith unavoidable finality, whilst intellectcries out for the utter necessity of under-ltanding.

"We have not built dame behind whichour people have found a haven, we haveDot discovered eerume, antitoxi.na, in-cubators to maintain the life of ourchildren. But we have given more lifeand more children, letting Nature decideher inevitable eelection. You have aDexpreeaion: The phoenix rising out of theaehee. With U8 that phoenix riaee everyyear, for destruction is rampant, throughfloods, famine, locuste, and ware. AncJthat phoenix is Youth, Youth that baasurvived fire, floods, famine, and war,Youth that produces Youth, stooled,eternal, urgently straining to buret forthanew, as Nature wills it."

The tone of Mr. Wu's voice was even,hie deportment as eerene 88 ever. Hewas looking 8~t at me and behindhis gold-rimmed~ I could see intohis eyes. An unusual Smoldering was inthem. Seraphim Wu W88 revealinglypooud of being